Chapter 9
Their return to the house was mostly quiet. Cheerful chirping of birds interrupted the silence occasionally as the cold of early morning quickly disappeared under the bright Colorado mountain sun. She wondered what kind of birds they were, because they were definitely not the blue bird with the raucous screeching call that had shocked her earlier.
As she walked she kept envisioning a Vietnamese man dressed in old West cowboy clothes and a worn straw hat sitting in the middle of a green meadow weeping bitterly as his cattle were led away. She couldn’t get the strange story out of her mind.
Hobie stopped often to take more pictures, but Presley forged ahead because she had already lost so much of her morning in the snowy woods with him. She got to the house first and found Jaxso
